


Nothing So Perfect

by dindjarindiaries



Category: Star Wars, The Mandalorian, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dindjarindiaries/pseuds/dindjarindiaries
Summary: You and Din think that you’re adding on to your family, only to learn there’s been a mistake—and now you’re both left to cope with the loss you never expected.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Nothing So Perfect

You’d close your eyes if the darkness wasn’t already consuming you. It’s a pain worse than any blaster shot you’ve taken whilst working as a part of the _Crest’s_ crew. It’s the feeling of your last flame of hope being snuffed out in an unforeseeable moment. It’s a strong sense of guilt and responsibility that falls heavily on your shoulders.  


It's a _loss_. But you’re not sure why you’re grieving something you never had in the first place.

You’d been so sure before, and the test you’d taken had proven it. You’d had your curiosities and everything had just… lined up. Perfectly. _Too_ perfectly. You should’ve known. You should’ve known when you picked up the child that day, kissing his head with your bright smile and watching him look at you with puzzlement as he placed his hand on your stomach and didn’t show any signs of excitement. You should’ve known the child hadn’t felt any life within you and you should’ve believed him.

If only you’d believed him.

But, _oh_ , there was no feeling quite like the joy in that month where you let yourself live a lie. You’d coordinated everything to tell your _riduur_ so well, even getting the child in on it. The child had picked four flowers on the pastoral plant where you were stretching your legs, handing them to Din as he looked at them with confusion.

“There’s four flowers,” you’d explained to him. “One for each of us.”

“But, there’s only three…” Din had started to say, but he’d trailed off and even with the helmet still on, you could see him realizing what you were hinting at. “ _Cyar’ika?_ Is it—are you—…?” Din had stopped again as he took a step closer to you, his gloved hands settling on both sides of your stomach as you nodded at him.

And that next moment when he’d torn his helmet off and tossed it in the grassy field, you’d never seen him happier. His chestnut eyes were glowing with warmth and shining with tears of joy as he’d pulled you close and buried his face in your hair, lavishing you with sweet nothings of excitement for your future and thanking you for adding to his clan— _your_ clan. He’d only pulled away to kiss you with such passion it took your breath away, his hands cradling your face in a manner so tender and gentle that you could feel your heart melting in your chest. To this day, you still haven’t forgotten the feeling of that kiss, the blending of such love and joy in one display of affection.

You wish you could cling to that, now.

The month had gone on and you’d both continued living in your fantasy together. You spent many nights laying in each other’s arms musing about the life you thought was soon to come, the newest addition to your clan.

“I think it’s going to a boy,” you’d whispered to Din, mindlessly brushing your hand through his hair as you laid on his chest. “He’ll be a warrior, just like you.”

Din had chuckled softly at that, his hands tightening their hold around you. “No, _cyare_ , it’s going to be a little girl. Our own princess.” He’d kissed your head before going on. “But she’ll still be a warrior— _cuun verd’ika_.” One of Din’s hands rises to your chin to lift it, forcing you to face him as he smiles at you. “Just like you.” The kiss he’d given you after those words was so soft and sweet that it was barely tangible, and you’d indulged in every sensation and feeling of it.

You were both so happy, then. It felt like all the tribulations you’d gone through with the child and hunters and being chased by the Empire had been more than worth it just for this one source of joy, this new addition to your clan. Din had an extra skip in his step, a hand that always reached for yours, a heart that he wore on his sleeve. You were the same way, lavishing the child you already had with even more kisses, sitting in Din’s arms for hours on end, pressing kisses to the cold metal of his beskar helmet when he couldn’t take it off just yet. Everything had felt perfect.

That’s when you should’ve known. Nothing in this galaxy is perfect—at least, not for long.

There’d always been a bad feeling gnawing at you, as if you felt guilty being this happy, but you’d tried to ignore it. It reached its worst point when you and Din decided to finally visit a medical center, to make sure everything with the child was all right. Mainly, it was because nothing _felt_ different. You’d thought your body would’ve started showing signs of changing already, but you’d dismissed it, insisting that it was because of your diet and lifestyle on the run in the _Crest_. Din had agreed with you when you voiced those worries to him.

He shouldn’t have. He should’ve challenged it. Maybe that would’ve made it easier when you stepped inside that medical center together only to become a fool.

You’d told the medic helping you—as per Din’s request, _not_ one of their droids—about your suspicions, about the test you’d taken. They ran their own tests, letting Din join you once you’d finished so you could view the results together. You’d held his gloved hand and glanced at him excitedly, wondering if you were even farther along than expected. Din had nearly been trembling with his own nerves, and you could picture the smile he was giving you from behind the helmet.

And then the medic had returned, with a look so grim that your smile had instantly fallen. They’d told you that there must’ve been a mistake. All their tests came back negative. You wouldn’t be adding on to your clan. You’d been living a lie for a _month_.

The walk back to the _Crest_ after that was silent—yet that silence said so much. Your hand was tight in Din’s as he kept you close to his side. You could feel the tears ready to well up in your eyes, but you didn’t feel the energy to make that happen. You were still in shock. It’d all made sense, it’d all lined up—even the test, the _kriffing_ faulty test—yet you’d still been wrong.

All you could think of was that you’d done something wrong. That test had been right, but you’d screwed something up, and you’d lost the little life you’d already created. What had you done? And then bring Din on it, to get him so excited and happy just to be let down because _you_ were careless, because _you_ had gotten all the wrong information? It felt like a cruel joke. It _hurt_.

It still does.

It’s been a few days, now, and you haven’t had the energy to leave the makeshift bed you and Din share aside from tending to the baby and eating a meal or two a day. You know Din’s worried by the way he comforts you at night, even when you don’t respond. He’s often out of the dark compartment, busying himself with job after job and whatever else he can do to distract himself. You know that’s how he’s used to coping—though, some part of you fears that’s not working. Din seems as if he’s doing too well. You saw how excited and joyful he’d been. There was no way he could be so composed now, able to tend to you and the child and his work without a problem.

You blame that on yourself, too.

Maybe if you had more energy right now, you could be there for him in the way you want to. Maybe if you hadn’t convinced him of such a lie, he wouldn’t be so badly hurt. Maybe if you’d just done things _right_ , neither one of you would be feeling this pain, and in a few months you’d really be holding your future child.

These are the thoughts that plague you, over and over and _over_ again, every single day. That’s why you’re drained. That’s why you stare into the darkness, waiting for it to laugh back at you. That’s why Din has to try to pull you back to the surface every night, kissing you enough to assure you that you’re still tied to reality somehow.

But, something’s very wrong tonight. You can sense it the moment Din comes back into the compartment, donning no armor except his helmet. He hasn’t appeared to you like that ever since you were married. Din takes every opportunity to see you with his own eyes, to have that quick and easy ability to kiss you whenever and wherever he wants to. When he comes closer, you can smell the sweetness and richness of the soaps from the fresher, clueing you in to the fact that he’s just cleansed himself. Yet, he put his helmet back on.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” his modulated voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you watch as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes your face between his hands. His thumbs run over your cheeks. “How are you feeling tonight?”

You shrug—as you always do. You try to manage a smile for him. You miss smiling with Din. “I’m okay.” Your voice is feeble and you want to curse yourself for it. You’re sick of feeling like this—but you can’t help it. Din’s told you that. “How are you?”

Din just nods at you. “Better with you.” Yet, even through the modulator, you can hear the lie. You can hear the trembling in his voice. You can hear the way his voice cracks ever so slightly on the last word. Something’s wrong, _very_ wrong, and you know his helmet has something to do with it.

“I’m glad.” Your words are getting stronger now in your concern for Din. He’s had to play the part of the stronger one recently, and you’re eager to switch the roles as you sense what’s happening with him. “Din, why do you have the helmet on?”

Din doesn’t respond right away. You know he’s trying to think of a lie. His breath hitches in his throat, and you hear him scramble for words—but ultimately, he says nothing. He’s hiding from you.

Your hands lift to the sides of his helmet, and you grasp it gently as you speak in a soft whisper. “May I?”

When Din nods, you begin to lift it off, and as soon as you’ve completed the action, Din turns his face away from you. But in the midst of that action, the light catches the glint of water in his eyes, the glow of tear stains on his cheeks. With a heart even heavier than his beskar, you set the helmet beside the bed, reaching for his face and turning it back to you. His dark eyes glisten with more tears as you run your thumbs over the pools on his cheeks. You try to think of what to say, but nothing comes to mind right away. In this moment, you’re realizing that Din’s felt the same way as you, but he hasn’t allowed you to see it. He hasn’t let himself come to terms with it properly. And you know that he needs to.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whisper, your voice sincere and gentle as you feel a warm tear fall over one of your thumbs. “Din, I’m so sorry that I never realized… that I never let you grieve with me.” Your own lips begin to tremble with his, and you bring his forehead against yours as you look deep into each other’s watering eyes. “Cry with me, Din.” You stifle a cry as you brush your trembling lips over his. “ _Please_.”

You pull away slightly to watch as Din falls apart in front of you, the tears coming more steadily now as he settles completely into the bed beside you. “ _Cyare_ ,” he whimpers, his hands cradling your face in the same way you hold his as he presses his forehead back against yours. His eyes fall closed and you can practically hear the sobs that he swallows back. “I was so… I couldn’t wait for them…” he chokes on the rest of his words, and a heartbreaking cry falls from his lips as he pulls you close and buries his face into your shoulder. You try your hardest not to sob in the same way he does, wanting Din to have the release he’s allowed you to have so many times before this moment.

“I know, Din,” you whisper soothingly into his ear, running one hand through his damp hair and the other over his back as he weeps into your shoulder. “I know.”

Din tries to take a breath, and you make another comforting brush of your hand down his back as you allow him time to speak. “I could—I could _picture_ them, _riduur_ ,” Din tells you, his voice broken and muffled by the material of your tunic. “I could see us… holding them. Loving them.” He stifles on his words and you can feel the cry that wells up within his chest. “ _Protecting_ them.” Din wails a bit as he speaks his next few words. “Why couldn’t I protect them?”

You close your eyes tight as you feel a tear fall down your cheek, willing yourself to remain strong as you pull him close to you. “We couldn’t have protected what we didn’t have, _riduur_ ,” you assure him, your voice quiet yet honest as you press a gentle kiss to his head. “It’s not our fault.”

You can hear Din calming himself down as he finally lifts his face from your shoulder, your heart breaking further upon seeing the redness in and around his eyes, the visual evidence of his grief. His hands return to your face as he holds it close to his own. “What did you say?”

Your fingers glide back to his cheeks as you look him in the eye and repeat yourself. “It’s not our fault.”

Din smiles just the slightest bit at that, confusing you for a moment before he speaks again. “You’re right, _cyar’ika_. It’s not our fault.” Din’s thumb brushes away the tear you’d let slip before. “It’s not _your_ fault.”

You realize what he’s getting at, and you start to shake your head. “No, I meant that—.”

“You meant exactly what you said.” Din touches his nose to yours with affection and reassurance as he keeps you close. “It’s not our fault—not yours and not mine.”

You sigh heavily, your gaze falling from his for a moment as you wrinkle your brow. “Then, why do I feel like such a fool? Why do I keep blaming myself for this? Why did I make this mistake, Din?”

“Because.” One of Din’s hands comes to your chin as he lifts it and encourages you to look back at him. “You’re grieving and you’re looking for somewhere to put the pain. For you, it’s easiest to put it on yourself. But that’s not fair, _cyare_. It’s not your fault.” When he sees some of the light return to your eyes, his smile widens, and he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “And we can always try again.” He places a kiss between your eyes. “And again.” He lifts one to your forehead. “And _again_.” He then hovers his lips over yours as he finishes off. “Until we get it just right.” He presses a soft kiss there that melts his salt-coated lips with your own, mixing your grief with your joy as you begin to slowly make the shift with him.

When Din pulls away, he invites you to nestle yourself into his chest, where he holds you close in the same way you’d just done for him. Sweet silence ensues for a few moments, but there’s still some thoughts swimming around in your mind, and you decide now is a better time than ever to release them to the air. “Din?”

“Yes, _ner kar’ta?_ ”

“You’re not… you’re not mad at me, right?” You feel Din’s hand stall on your back, and you begin to panic as you go on. “Because, you know, I made us all think that—.”

“ _No_.” Din cuts you off in a firm yet gentle manner, his hand resuming its previous activity as he pulls you closer. “I told you, it’s not your fault. I could never be angry with you for that. You were misled. You couldn’t have known any better than I did.”

You smile to yourself as you nod, burying yourself further into Din’s warm embrace. The silence continues for a few moments before you call for him again. “Din?”

“Yes?”

You close your eyes as your smile widens, feeling the most like yourself that you have ever since the day at the medical center as you tighten your hold on him. “I love you.”

You can practically hear Din’s own smile as he presses a kiss to your head. “I love you too, _cyar’ika_. No matter what.”

You know you’re both close to slumber that’s been fueled by your strong emotions, and you yawn into his chest before saying the last thought in your mind. “And Din?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re right.” You lift your head to meet his eyes as you run a hand over his cheek. “I think our first child’s gonna be a little girl—and I think she’s gonna _adore_ you. Just like me.”

Din smiles at that, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips before he tucks you back into his chest. “Just like you, _ner oyay_.”

And just like that, you and Din are able to help heal each other in the way you’ve always done so well—perfectly predicting your future that’s yet to come.

**Author's Note:**

> mando’a translations:  
> riduur = spouse, partner  
> cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart  
> cyare = beloved  
> cuun verd’ika = our little warrior  
> ner kar’ta = my heart  
> ner oyay = my life


End file.
